Chasing Cars
by Jayneysuk
Summary: So he stayed, laying beside her, watching her struggle with demons he wished she would share, knowing as he did so that he would for the rest of his life. This is my take on what happened in the aftermath of One Perfect Day.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Chasing Cars

Rating: PG

Pairing: Kate and MikeSummary: So he stayed, laying beside her, watching her struggle with demons he wished she would share, knowing as he did so that he would for the rest of his life

Spoilers: This is my take on what happened in the aftermath of One Perfect Day so anything up to and including the finale

Disclaimers: Sea Patrol and it's characters are the property of McElroy All Media, while Chasing Cars is the property of Snow Patrol. No Copyright Infringement intended

Author's Notes: Driving along listening to the radio, the song 'Chasing Cars' by Snow Patrol came on and it became my inspiration for a fic

If I lay here

If I just lay here

Would you just lie with me

And forget the world?

**Chasing Cars Prologue**

Mike stretched out on his back, his fingers laced behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling. He had no clue as to the time or how long exactly they had been laying there in silence, but little light streamed through the window and for the first time in days the humidity had dropped low enough that he didn't feel the need to dash to the shower. At some point he knew he would have to go home to his empty apartment and try to sleep but that could be anywhere from a few minutes to a few hours depending on the woman laying on the deep pile rug beside him.

Once upon a time they would have cooked dinner and shared a bottle of wine on her veranda as the sky drifted from sunset orange to black, the conversation full of laughter and free-flowing. In light of what happened they no longer sat on the veranda as it reminded her of times gone by and of people lost; it reminded him of a broken love affair. Instead they had their own spot on her cream rug where they would lay, with the lights down low, or like tonight turned off, and only the softest of music playing in the background. Some nights they would just lay side by side, never touching, each just listening to the gentle breathing of the other, or losing themselves in whatever piece of music seemed appropriate for the mood of the evening.

Other times they would talk, about nothing and sometimes about everything. Or at least that's what they told themselves. It was pathetic in a sad sort of way; the way they drifted together at the end of a patrol, making up excuses not to go to the pub, not to sit in public and force themselves to make conversation, and instead they found themselves together, going through the motions. In some ways it seemed like all they had.

Mike raised his knee to his chest, attempting to alleviate the cramp that was building in his calf. Rotating his foot he pulled a face as his leg tightened. He stretched his leg out and let out the breath he had been holding so not as to disturb her.

Kate yawned beside him and he gently rolled onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow. "My cue to leave?" he asked with a sad smile. In the four weeks they had been doing this he had never out stayed his welcome, never asked for more than he thought she was ready for and certainly never told her how much pain he was carrying. "You look bushed."

She waved him off with her hand. "It's fine. Stay a bit longer," she said, and he had to strain to hear her voice. "Please."

There was always an internal monologue where he debated the sense of staying versus leaving her to deal with her grief alone. He told himself that if he stayed she would feel safe and maybe not so alone for a while longer; if he left she would cry herself to sleep. So he stayed, laying beside her, watching her struggle with demons he wished she would share, knowing as he did so that he would for the rest of his life. He owed her that much. He wanted to give her eminently more.

Kate tried to stifle a second yawn but failed miserably. "I'm sorry."

"Do you think you can sleep?" he asked, shifting awkwardly.

She nodded because it was easier than lying. "Are you still getting the cramps?"

"Not so much," he said with a shrug of his shoulders. It was a lie. They were becoming quite adept at lying to each other.

"Go home." Kate eased herself up into a sitting position, ignoring the ache in her back. "We could both do with some sleep."

Mike sighed, knowing this was the point at which they pretended everything was fine. Then he'd go home and worry about her and she'd spend most of the night staring at her ceiling and thinking about the ghosts that haunted her. "Yeah," he said casually. "Tomorrow is another day."

"Another perfect day," she replied keenly.

Ducking his head in concession, Mike managed his way to his feet, sighing as he did so. "Eventually it gets easier, Kate," he offered, though he wasn't sure if he was offering that sage advice for her benefit or for himself. The lying really was getting too easy for them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part One **

Mike found himself on the step, staring at the door, wondering if he was about to make the biggest mistake of his life. Mistake or not he had little choice. Watching the woman he loved silently self-destruct before him wasn't doing either of them any favours. She chose to walk rather than run into action these days, silently agreeing when in the past she would have argued until he eventually pulled rank. Promotion had long become a taboo subject, and even the crew, as damaged and fractured as they were, had noticed that their X was no longer the X they knew.

He blamed himself for not acting sooner, for allowing Kate to put up walls and to offer him false reassurances that he accepted. A better man, a less attached Commander would have insisted sooner that she get help, that she needed more help than he could give. Instead he'd let his love for her and his guilt at years of putting her second to his career override his good sense. He could no longer do that. The breaking point had come the previous day when she had fallen head long into the water on a routine boarding. Kate had made a mistake, one that while not putting the boarding party in danger could have blown the whole operation. The crew knew it, she knew it and he suspected she knew that he knew it. Wet and bedraggled she had stomped silently past him, her eyes barely meeting his, defiant and a little lost at the same time. The correct call was to pull her into his cabin and demand an explanation. It would be an exercise in futility he suspected. For a moment on the deck all he had wanted to do was hold her, squeezing her in his arms until she broke down and cried. Which is why he let her go, watching her disappear below decks before he turned back to the boarding party and took his Bosun aside.

"Boss?" Dutchy asked, staring at his boss as he waited for instructions.

Mike gazed out at the waves lapping in the distance, at the tiny FFV trailing in their wake and the islands on the horizon before he met the young man's eyes. It was much like seeing it for the first time, only seeing it for what it was. As much as he had enjoyed his years at sea he had also sacrificed more than his fair share for that life. Whatever he did and wherever he ended up it would still be there. Another twenty years aboard patrol boats wouldn't change that. He knew then, in that moment, what he had to do. "Let Coxy secure the prisoners and ask RO to inform the feds of our rendezvous time. In the meantime take her a brew and check she's okay." His head lifted and he met the younger mans eyes.

"You sure?" Dutchy asked, unable to read his captain's thoughts for once.

He nodded. "And when we get back to shore make sure she gets home okay. I have some things I need to take care of." He turned and walked away, heading purposefully back to his cabin. Closing the door firmly behind him to ward off anyone who thought he might be approachable, he settled himself at the desk. The phone rang for what seemed like an eternity but it was merely a few seconds until someone connected him and he heard her voice.

"Mike."

"Maxine," he said by way of greeting. "Are you able to talk?"

Maxine leaned forward over her desk and mentally prepared herself. He never enquired whether it was inconvenient. If anything he was the most inconvenient man she had ever met. It could only mean trouble. "I have a few minutes."

"I'm done." As the words left his mouth he knew it was true and he felt as though a weight was lifted to finally be able to share it with someone else.

There was a momentary silence and Mike knew she was contemplating what to say, what argument to drag up, any and all of which would be pointless.

"This is a reaction, Mike, to the explosion, to everything. Maybe you could have some counselling? Take another posting?"

He shook his head in the quiet of his cabin, his eyes fluttering shut, as her words washed over him. "The office next to yours is still mine, Max. I want - no I need - that shore posting Maxine."

"Mike Flynn is ready to leave the sea behind," she stated rather than queried, her voice lacking the usual teasing such a thought would carry.

"It's time the Hammersley had a fresh pair of hands at the helm."

"Does Kate know?" she asked, wondering if the Lieutenant was in some way responsible for the sudden demand.

"No." He let out a deep sigh. "She has enough to deal with without my sudden epiphany."

"Okay. But it may take some time to organize."

He chuckled coldly. "I'll be in home port in five hours. I have five days shore leave and I'm packing my stuff, Max."

"You're that serious?" she asked incredulous, for the first time scared at what her friend might do. "You'd risk your career?"

"You don't know what I'd risk my career for." Who I would risk my career for, he added in his head.

"You're not leaving me much choice. Or much time." It would take some phone calls, not to mention some cajoling but it was possible to find someone to replace him. It was just awkward.

"There are plenty of officers you could crash sail as temporary CO."

"Kate?"

Mike knew he should say no, share his concerns but that would leave her career promotions dead in the water and he couldn't do that to her when all she needed was some time. "She deserves the same consideration as everyone else."

"That's not an answer."

"Let's say I'm a little biased and leave it at that." He glanced around his cabin, noting that there was little of him there. "I would like to take up my posting on Friday, Maxine."

"I'll sort it," she said reluctantly. "If you're really sure about this."

"I won't change my mind."

"Okay."

"Thanks."

"Does she know what you're willing to risk for her?" Maxine asked casually. She knew it was a low blow, even for her, but even after twenty years she couldn't quite forgive him for not fighting for her.

"I have to go," he sighed, hoping to end the conversation without it becoming a rehash of previous arguments. "I need to go bring the girl home one last time," he continued, his heart beating in his chest at the acknowledgement that this would be the final time he would sail into home port at the helm.

He had been standing there for ten minutes, just staring at the door before he knocked. Now he found himself waiting for her to open it.

Kate opened the door a crack, her head peeking out. "Oh it's you," she said softly, opening the door wide. "I've been trying to call you."

She looked so pitiful there, her blonde hair mussed, her eyes showing the telltale marks of running mascara, and wearing sweat pants that practically swamped her tiny frame.

"I know. I turned my phone off."

"Yet you're here."

"We need to talk," Mike said flatly

"Great, the phrase every woman wants to hear." She motioned with her hand for him to enter. "Unless you want to do it on the door step."

He stepped over the threshold and followed her into the main living room. While she dropped onto the couch and tucked her legs under her he remained standing, barely venturing into the room.

"Well?" Kate asked as he continued to look at her and not say anything.

"I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life loving you," he announced, a smile lighting up his eyes.

She looked surprised, her eyes widening at such rare show of emotion.

The smile dissipated. "But . . .'"

Her heart sank.

"I can't do this anymore." Mike gestured between them. "I can't watch whatever the hell it is that you're doing to yourself. I can't be near that."

She stared back at him, her face emotionless, her hands twisting in her lap the only indicator of her pain.

"All I want to do is hold you and make it better but you won't let me."

Kate opened her mouth to speak and he held up a hand to stop her.

"I spoke to Maxine yesterday. I'm taking the posting. I start at NAVCOM as soon as shore leave is over."

There was a moment of hope in her eyes, then he witnessed a veil of sadness and finally he saw the loss cascade across her features.

"I didn't want you to hear it on the grapevine or when you boarded on Friday. I had to tell you myself." He hovered, wishing he was eloquent enough to express how he really felt but knowing in all honesty that he was the emotional coward she professed him to be. "I'll take the office next to Maxine again. Maybe we'll talk on the Sat phone from time to time."

"This is goodbye?" she asked tentatively.

"Oh Kate."

"I tell you you're the only man I'll ever marry and you say goodbye," she spat bitterly. "Promotion, NAVCOM, it was all suppose to be about us being together."

"There is no us. There can't be an us. You blame me for. . ." he faltered not wanting to see the pain in her eyes, "Jim."

Her eyelids lowered and she stared at the carpet. "I don't."

Mike smiled a sad smile. "It feels like it. It's been a month and you're slipping away to a place where I can't reach you."

"We eat together every night, we spend each day working together and every night we're not on board we're here together," she stated forcibly. "Except last night."

"And we talk about everything."

"We do,"she agreed emphatically.

"Except we don't. There are so many things that we don't talk about." He watched as she silently shook her head from side to side.

"I'm not ready."

"And that's okay too, but when I'm here I want to talk about those things. I want to touch you. I want to hold you. And I know it's been a month and it's too soon and I know it could be a year and too soon but Kate, when I'm with you I feel."

"So this is your answer?" she asked, her voice betraying her disbelief. Her bare feet hit the floor as she made her way to the window. The deep cream rug felt like straw beneath her toes as she watched him through the reflection in the window. "To not be with me?"

Mike ran his fingers through his hair, taking deep breaths as he tried to resist the urge to go to her. "To give you the space to grieve, to talk to someone, anyone you can open up to, and so that, if you still want to at the end of this, we can be together."

Kate finally turned, her arms wrapped tightly around her middle, drawing attention to her frailty. "So what happens now? You walk out and I don't see you again until when. . . you think I've completed some twelve-step programme."

He hadn't noticed until she spoke that she was crying, wet streaks running down her cheeks, her voice breaking through sobs. His heart literally broke in two, his hands reaching for her even as he held his body in check. "No," he said firmly, "you just won't see me every day."

"But you're going to walk out the door right now," she stated bitterly.

"Yes. I'm going home." It was a lie, if only a white one. In truth he was going to get a drink, maybe more than one, and then tomorrow he was going to find somewhere new to live, to make a fresh start.

The tears fell unheeded as words failed her.

He could have gone to her, held her while she cried but Mike knew in his heart he would never be able to walk away, so he took a step back, his eyes still drawn to her. "Take care, Kate," he whispered. His footsteps echoed through her home as he finally turned and walked down the narrow hallway to the door.

Kate waited, her sobs intensifying as the footsteps stopped and the door slammed. He was gone, he had left her this time, and there was something in his eyes that said he wouldn't be back. She let herself cry then, sobs racking her body, her tears clouding the deep emerald eyes, her body falling heavily onto the couch. He was gone. The thought echoed through her mind, crashing into her grief, her guilt, her need, until her head hurt. Nights of little or no sleep finally captured her body and she rolled over until she was facing the back of the couch, her eyelids heavy, her sobs falling into rhythm with her breathing, until she drifted off to sleep. There would be no painful dreams, no haunting nightmares for one night as exhaustion began to have the healing effect.


End file.
